


It'll Be Good For You

by oppaisdead



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Depression, Implied homophobia, M/M, PTSD, Peter is 17, Slow Burn, Underage - Freeform, most of the avengers will probably make an appearance, peter has the spidey suit but no spidey powers you'll see, peter is basically tonys therapy, peter isnt spiderman, steve/tony is just implied, teenage angst, thor comes in way later, uh oh theres ironstrange now
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-31
Updated: 2018-08-17
Packaged: 2019-06-19 18:20:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15515790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oppaisdead/pseuds/oppaisdead
Summary: When Pepper realizes that Tony is struggling with work, she decides to get him an apprentice. But she doesn't know that Tony's problems run far deeper than they seem. Peter is the only person who can keep him on track, and keep him motivated. But things start to change after Tony spends more time with him...This is my first Peter/Tony fic! If you don't like this ship, please don't read. :) I am so excited to be exploring more marvel ships... As always, feel free to leave your comments, I absolutely love to read and respond to them.





	1. Chapter 1

Tony still had the nightmares. He still woke up, drenched in sweat, staring at the walls of the dark room with wide straining eyes. He could barely sleep. Though, since New York he had gotten used to it. Espresso usually got him through, though he shook like a mad man after the amount he drank daily. He spent most of his time in the lab. Tinkering, he liked to call it. “A distraction.” That’s what Pepper had called it. He often thought that maybe he wouldn’t be so screwed up if she hadn’t left. But, he didn’t blame her. She took care of the company better without the distraction that he provided her.   
He had started to get behind on the paperwork that Pepper brought him daily, in big stacks. She came by his house daily, leaving a stack in the mailbox, with a little note that told him the due date. She always added three exclamation marks and a tiny smiley face. He figured it was easier for her not to face him. If she saw him now anyways, she’d probably smack him across the face and tell him to pull himself together. He rarely changed out of his pajamas, just drug himself down to work on his suits, forgetting to shower, and often forgetting to eat until Jarvis reminded him.  
And that’s where he currently was today. It was nearly 3 pm, and he’d only slept 4 hours in the past 48. He had a cup of espresso on his work station, which sat neatly on top of the half-a-foot stack of paperwork, when his phone rang.  
“Jarvis, who is that?”  
“It’s Pepper sir.”  
Tony sighed and swiveled around in his chair, rubbing his face with his hands slightly too hard  
“Answer.”  
The voice on the other end was familiar, as was the tone it held. “Tony Stark!! I told you to have those papers done three days ago!” She huffed into the microphone, “And not only that, but you’ve been ignoring my calls and emails! Do you want me to come down there?!”  
“Oh hi, Pepper. Sorry about that. I’ve just been caught in a spiraling mood of enhanced brain power. I swear, I think I’ve disproved the theory of gravity.” His voice dripped with sarcasm, and he stood, stretching his arms over his head and listening to the satisfying crack of his stiff bones.  
“Tony, seriously?! I’m coming down there now.”  
“C’mon Pep-“  
“No, Tony. This has gone too far! Regardless of if I’m running this company or not, I still have to have your damn signature on the papers…”  
Tony groaned, “God after all these years, I’d expect you’d have learned how to forge it by now.”  
“You do realize that’s illegal, right? I’ll be there in ten.” The line dropped. Jarvis spoke up.   
“She has disconnected the call.”  
“Yeah, Jarvis, I realized.” He walked up the stairs slowly, dragging himself to the shower.   
He really didn’t want any ties to the company anymore. Not after he became Iron Man, anyways. There really was no gratification that he received from running the company. Before it was all for his father, but truly, his father wanted him to carry out his legacy with the creation of the replacement for palladium. And he had done that, and it propelled him forward in his hero state of life. Now? He had no desire to do anything with Stark Industries. Pepper was doing a great job, and he didn’t want to interfere with her success, and obviously, she didn’t want him to either.   
He dug through his drawers, his now slightly outgrown hair dripping onto his shoulders. Slipping on a white t-shirt and jeans was truly all he could muster with the energy he had.  
Soon enough Jarvis spoke up. “Mrs. Potts is at the door, should I let her in?”  
Tony nodded, making his way down stairs and to the door. He heard Pepper’s heels clicking against the hard floors.  
She greeted him with a smile. “Glad to see you showered.”  
Tony shrugged, putting on a slight smirk at her professional demeanor. “Grease smell can be overwhelming.” He walked over to the table, the stack of papers in his hands.   
“Shall we start?” She handed him a pen, her signature Pepper smile still shining.  
It took about an hour to finish. All he had to do was sign, but there was about 200 sheets for him to do it. Pepper sat patiently, and Tony was starting to remember why he fell in love with her in the first place. But that feeling had since faded, and replaced with admiration, as a friend would have for a friend. He admitted he missed it all, but he couldn’t bear to get in the way of pepper’s success. Not when he had his own.  
The truth of it all was that he truly was lonely. It was boring, living in an empty Avengers tower when nothing was going on. When they had no missions, they went their separate ways, and Tony was stuck by himself in a place that held only the shadows of his friends.   
“I’ve been thinking, Tony.” Pepper spoke up, as they finished the last few signatures.  
“I’m sure you do a lot of that every day, Pepper.” She rolled her eyes at his comment. It was easier to ignore his sarcasm.  
“Have you ever thought of getting an apprentice? There’s so many bright young people in New York.”  
Tony looked up, surprised at her statement. She was right, but the thought had never crossed his mind. “How exactly would we go about even doing that?”  
“I could always put up an ad. Just put together an application… and you can choose whoever you’d like.”  
Tony bit his lip. An apprentice. He never was really good with kids. They annoyed him, honestly. But maybe it was a good idea. He could get his mind off things for a while, and actually have something to do either than fuck around in the lab and deny press conference and event invitations.   
“Sure Pepper, have at it.” He waved it off, and started making his way back downstairs.


	2. Chapter 2

About a month later, Tony received an email full of a package of applications that Pepper thought he would like. She explained that they had to write up a project proposal of what they thought the biggest tech advancement would be ten years in the future. It was a pretty good idea, she had to hand it to her. But when about ten applications in, his head hurt. None of the kids had much of a good idea. And he still had over 500 applications left.   
“Jarvis, call Pepper.”  
It rang exactly three times, before Pepper answered. “Hi, Tony. Is there a problem?”  
“Uh, yeah. Why did you send me over 500 applications to read through?”  
“Well, I cut them down by 90%.” She sounded confused.  
“Pepper. I don’t even read the paperwork for my own company. Why would read through a bunch of kid’s shitty projects?”  
“Well, did you get to Peter Parker’s yet?”  
Tony motioned to the 4D screen. “Jarvis.” He watched as Jarvis scanned the proposals until he came across the last name Parker. “Here it is, sir.” Jarvis confirmed the document before him.  
Tony began to skim it. “Cybernetics, huh?”   
There was an obvious smile in Pepper’s voice. “That kid is a total genius. I knew you wouldn’t want to read through all of them.” The line cut off.  
Tony smiled a little, but he was distracted, intrigued by the proposal in front of him. It was surprisingly informal, compared to the rest, but the vocabulary was that which he was only familiar with his colleagues speaking with. He glanced up towards the top at the three sentence biography that introduced the paper. “Peter Parker, 17. Senior at Midtown School of Science and Technology in Queens. Interested in cybernetics and mechanical prosthesis.”   
There was an address listed below. Tony had to meet this kid… but first, a shower.  
\---  
Peter had his headphones blaring so loud that he didn’t even hear the doorbell. May was at work, anyways. It was only 4 o’clock, so he figured it was the postman. He was still in his school clothes, after team practice for the Decathlon this year. It was his last year, and he was dang sure he was going to give it his all. He stumbled across the living room, letting the door swing open.   
“May isn’t-“ He let his eyes drift upwards, and his words completely disappeared from his lips. He noticed the nice dress shoes and pressed slacks. He almost felt himself choke. This was definitely not the post man. The further his eyes traced up, the tighter his stomach got, and the more he saw of the man before him. Perfectly tailored black suit, neatly trimmed beard, a face he saw about a million times a day on the news, in the papers….  
Tony grinned, he was used to it. “Peter Parker, right?” Though his grin suppressed his surprise. He definitely wasn’t expecting what he saw. The kid was 5’8, messy brown hair and huge chocolate brown eyes. His expression was like a deer in headlights.   
“Y-Yeah… T-Tony Stark?!” He quickly tried to straighten his jacket and his shoulders, the shocked expression leaving his face for a more serious one. He took a moment to take it all in. His hair was slightly longer than it had been a few months ago at the press conference. Not that he watched it or anything… He just saw it on the news.   
Tony waved his hand as if swatting a fly. “No formalities kid, I’m here to tell you that you’re in.”  
“I-I’m in…? In for what?” His brain was currently dead. Functioning at 2% the capacity it usually did. His head literally felt fuzzy; he probably could pass out. His life-long role model was standing in front of him.   
Tony threw his hands up. “The apprenticeship, kid. I know it took me a while to read the application, but damn…” He mumbled off.  
Peter stuttered through a few sentences, his face getting red with embarrassment. Tony decided to save anymore of his hilarity, and handed him a packet. “Just some paperwork. You start next Monday, got it?”  
And with that he disappeared down the stairs.  
Dear god, Peter’s heart was beating a mile a minute. Tony Stark just showed up to his two bedroom apartment in Queens… and told him he won the apprenticeship. He closed the door, still in complete shock.  
It had to have taken him at least twenty minutes to even open the packet, because he was WELL aware that he had to be dreaming. Should he call May? It would be rude to bother her at the end of her shift. Maybe he should call Ned, instead? Peter didn’t know if he could handle Ned’s reaction right now. He shut the door to his room behind him, and pushed the wrist-carried prototype he was working on out of the way. He could finally feel himself calming down, but it was difficult, because as he slipped the paperwork out of the file, the first thing he saw was the Stark Industries logo.   
But the paperwork was pretty normal. It asked for his address, age, and health problems. It also asked for any extracurriculars he was involved in, and to write down a schedule for when he could work. As he continued reading, he reached the page that listed his duties as Mr. Stark’s apprentice.  
“Aid in the upkeep of the lab, attend meetings and outings, and work in detail with Mr. Stark with his projects.” Peter nodded, letting his mind wander at what Mr. Starks’s life was life. He seemed to live fairly lavishly, expensive suits, big parties overseas… I mean just look at the Avengers tower. That’s where the guy lived!  
Monday, too… four days away. Peter bit his lip, he could hear May shuffling around in the kitchen. She must have gotten home a few minutes ago. Peter peaked outside,   
“Hi, May.” He gave her a smile.  
“Hi sweetie, still in your school clothes? I’m surprised.” She was rummaging through the fridge, “What do you want for dinn-“  
“A-Actually!” Peter interrupted slightly, “I was wondering… c-can I have some money for a metro pass?” Peter took a seat at the table, his cheeks turning red. He hated asking May for things, she already did so much for him.  
“What for?”  
“I-I got a job! In… In Manhattan and I’d really like to take it.”  
May smiled, “Wow Peter! That’s great. For college money, I’m guessing?”  
Peter nodded. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to tell May the details just yet. He didn’t want to make a big deal out of it…  
“That great, Peter. Of course you can have some money. I’ll give it to you tomorrow, alright?”  
\---  
When Tony got back to Manhattan, he wished he had told the boy to start tomorrow. He could use someone else around to help out. The lab was a mess, half the time he didn’t even discard his “failed” projects, and they just sat in the back corner. And by failed, he simply meant he lost interest, and couldn’t see them providing in satisfaction once they were done anyways. The place was a wreck, if it wasn’t for him programming Dum-E and U how to straighten the place up, he wouldn’t have any counter space to even work on.   
He leaned against the wall of the elevator as he rode it up to his suite. An office of sorts. It wasn’t even truly used for that, but it was a place where Tony could go to sit. And think. Which he had been doing a lot of recently.  
He remembered trying to find solace in Bruce after the Mandarin accident. The shrapnel was gone, and that was one less stressor off his back, but Bruce didn’t really ever seem to listen. He didn’t blame the guy. Like he said, he really didn’t have the temper for it.   
Steve had tried to talk to him about therapy once.  
“Really does a lot of good. They’re trained to treat PTSD, Tony. It’ll make you feel better t’ get it off your back.”  
Steve had given him a card, but it never made it past the first trashcan he came by. Tony knew he needed help, but he just could never find the courage to actually walk up to someone and tell them he needed help. It could be his ego, or it could be the fear of them saying there was nothing they could do for a guy who was terrified of space aliens invading earth through giant worm holes. Or maybe it was the stress of the publicity of it all. He didn’t want to let the people down.   
He was Iron Man, after all.


	3. Chapter 3

Peter couldn’t help but be nervous when Monday morning arrived. He woke up about 300 times during the night, fitfully checking the clock because he was terrified of waking up late. I mean, it was a big deal, right? Such a big deal that he was nervous to tell anyone. He didn’t really want the word to get around, because he didn’t want the attention and glorification that either Ned or May would throw him into.   
So terrified that he set his alarm for 2 hours earlier than what he actually needed to set it for. 5 am rolled around, and Peter drug himself to the shower, turning it fully on cold in hopes it would wake him up.  
And he was right. It sure did. He hissed at the cold water, and after about a minute of teeth chattering he turned it back to the warm side. It was September anyways, starting to cool down. He didn’t really know why he thought that was a good idea. He stayed in the shower for quite a while, mostly because he was overthinking things. Was he really going to be working directly with Mr. Stark? I mean, that’s what the papers said… Maybe he would be working with Pepper Potts. Probably not, though. God, that woman could run the world and not ask a single person for help…  
A half hour later he stepped out of the shower, trying to fix his wet hair in the foggy mirror. It always curled up during the summer, and the lingering pavement and September heat was making it a wavy mess recently. And to top it all off, he had run out of hair gel last month.  
He had May press his slacks last night. He wanted to look nice, since most of the clothes he had didn’t even compare to what Mr. Stark wore. He found his khaki slacks from last year’s class pictures. He put on a white button up and a red tie he found crammed in the sock drawer. This was okay, right?  
“Hey, May…?” May was awake, sitting on the couch, watching the news a drinking a far-too-big cup of coffee.  
“Oh, Peter! You look great!” She quickly stood up, enveloping him in a big hug. “Be safe, okay?”  
Peter nodded, pulling away from the hug. “Always am!”  
She gave him a stern look. “Text me when you’re there. I’m serious, Peter.”  
Peter grabbed his bag by the door, nodding, “I know, I know… Don’t worry about me. Have a good day, May.” And May couldn’t say another word, because he was out the door.   
\---  
Tony slept surprisingly well given that his weekend had gone to shit. One drunken night ended with him calling Pepper and saying god knows what. He didn’t even want Jarvis to replay the call feed when he woke up the next morning. And then he saw the angry messages from her with no reckoning on how bad what he said truly was, especially because Pepper was cussing, and she never did that. And the hangover… God, he swore he still had it. Then, Rhodes had called. And he gave him the longest lecture of his life, telling him it was time to man up and get some help, and ending it with “I want my best friend back.” Needless to say, Tony hung up without a word. And then had an anxiety attack on the scale of the one he had a few years back on the side of a highway, thousands of miles away from home.   
Jarvis woke him up, and Tony definitely could tell it was a Monday.   
“Sir, Peter Parker is sitting outside on the park bench. He is here a whole hour early. Should I let him in?”  
Tony groaned. Dear god, the kid was already getting on his nerves. “Just let him in the lobby, talk to him.”  
“Yes, sir.”  
While Tony climbed in the shower, Peter heard the door beep, and a voice come across the loud speaker.  
“Peter Parker, I am Jarvis. Mr. Stark will be with you shortly, please make yourself at home.”  
Peter stood up, wondering where the voice was coming from. Did Tony already have an assistant? Maybe not. He made his way inside the lobby.   
The avengers tower was the one of the most architecturally advanced in New York. Peter wrote a paper on it his modern architecture elective his junior year. It was completely clean energy. And the top ten floors were only used for research. Not many of the avengers stayed here anymore, though. There was the new facility upstate that was currently being built. But it wouldn’t be done for the next few years.   
It was incredible, looking around in the lobby. He had come for a school trip to tour, but they were only able to view the first five floors. And now? Peter was going into the heart and soul of the building. His hands shook slightly as he took a seat in one of the leather chairs.   
He fumbled with his phone for about ten minutes, waiting patiently. The elevator dinged and Jarvis spoke again.   
“Mr. Parker, if you would please enter the elevator, I will take you to Mr. Stark, now.”  
Peter simply followed the directions. The elevator did all the work for him, and when he saw the floor number he knew he was in for a longer ride. His hands were still shaking, and he stuffed them in his pockets to hide it. He bit his lip. C’mon Peter, get it together! How the hell was he supposed to work if he was already this nervous?   
When the elevator doors opened Peter was greeting with the lab. It was everything he expected it to be, just slightly disheveled.   
Peter walked in slowly, looking around.  
“Over here kid!” Tony was sitting at a work station, and Peter walked over quickly.  
“M-Mr. Stark,” he held out his hand for Tony to shake, cringing as he saw it shaking, “I’m so glad to be here. Thank you aga-“  
In a second, Tony spoke up, shoving a scrap paper list in his hand. “No formalities, kid, right? I told you this back in Queens.”  
Peter nodded, taking the list and reading through the short list of tasks written while Tony continued to speak. “It’s not much. Uh, so I need some stuff to work on the new suit. It should all be there. Pepper is on floor 13. She has some papers for you, and some for you to bring back…”  
Peter was on it before Tony could even finish. He shrugged, continuing on. But not even thirty minutes later Peter was back, with a crate of everything on the list he asked for.  
“Here you go, Mr. Stark.”  
Tony could help but try and hide his surprised grin. “Great job, kid. I- Well that’s everything I really needed, so why don’t we sit down a chat.”  
Peter nodded, taking a seat beside him.   
“So, how was the commute?”  
Peter shrugged, setting his bag on the floor. “It wasn’t too bad. I usually just listen to music and it passes by pretty quickly.”  
“Oh, yeah? What do you listen to?” Tony looked up, intrigued. He might as well get to know the kid. He obviously had good work ethic, there was no denying it. And if he was going to be around for the next year, it wouldn’t hurt to have a little light conversation. He could tell Peter was nervous, anyways. He wasn’t surprised. It was a big change, especially for a 17 year old kid from Queens.   
“Anything, really. Usually older rock, 70’s and 80’s. I don’t really like modern music.” Peter trailed off, watching Tony as he worked meticulously.   
The conversation continued. Tony asked him about school, and where and what he wanted to do for college. The kid was smart. He had goals that Tony would have never even thought of at 17. Tony always had the means, but never really the drive. That didn’t come until after his father’s death, and even then, he had no choice and he wasn’t crazy passionate ideas. Peter was different, and Tony saw a little bit of himself in him. He saw the intelligence, the drive, and the ideas that, to others, came out of thin air with no premise. But he didn’t have Tony’s temper, at all. The kid was cool as a cucumber.   
And as the first week went by, Tony noticed Peter start to open up. He started to give Tony ideas on the projects that he was working on. They were damn good ideas, too. He began to talk more about himself, and it was relaxing. To have someone else around, and to talk to them on a daily basis.   
The weekend was coming around, and there was a benefit in Tony’s name. A charity event for the local children’s hospital. Pepper had dealt with all the financial aspects, and when she called she simply said “I need you to just show up and be nice. And bring Peter. It’ll be good for you.”  
Tony had debated going at all, but after Pepper’s threats to start sending all the management paperwork straight to him…. Well he changed his mind.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW: assault

Tony called on Sunday evening, a week before the event. He was out with Happy, browsing the Tom Ford a good ten minutes before they closed. Peter picked up within seconds. Which was very typical. He wasn’t sure if it was just a teenager thing, since they were usually on his phone. That was probably it.  
“Hey, kid.” He had said, “There’s a benefit this weekend for Mount Sinai at the Alice Tully Hall. I’m guessing you know where that is?”  
Peter was quick to speak up, “Yes, sir! W-Would you like me to be there?”  
“Well, why else would I be asking?” Tony felt himself smile. There was always something so charming about the way that Peter was so willing to put himself into the moment and do his best to be helpful.   
“Y-Yeah, Mr. Stark, I’ll go!” Peter tried to hide his excitement, Tony could hear it dripping from his voice. It was funny to see his excitement over something that Tony dreaded. All the people, all the conversations he would have to fake a smile through. He would have to wear a suit, too. It had been months since he had gone to an event, and luckily Pepper piped it up to the media to being a scheduling issue. When in reality, Stark just didn’t want to go. He didn’t feel like it anymore. He was getting older, and after the shit that had happened these past few years he never really had the urge to celebrate much of anything. At least there was alcohol.  
“Be there at 8, I’ll be waiting out front.” He stuffed his phone in the pocket of his jeans, whistling a worker over to pick out his suit. Fake it till you make it, he thought.  
\---  
“Oh, man. Oh, man.” Peter paced around the room, threading his fingers through his hair. A charity event with Mr. Stark? What the hell was he going to wear? He had his suit from his junior prom, I mean that would be okay, right? It was fully black, and he had still had his dress shirt and blue tie…  
He quickly picked up the phone and dialed Ned’s number. Peter listened to it ring, and with each ring his heart beat faster. He needed his best friend’s advice.  
“Hey, Peter. What’s up? If you’re asking if I can come over, I don’t know I’m ki-“  
“I’ve been working for Tony Stark as his intern for the past two weeks and now I have to go to a benefit with him and I don’t know what to wear, and I don’t want to ask May for anything.”  
Peter spit the words out so quickly that Ned was stunned silent for a few moments.  
“Wait, what the hell?! You got the Stark Apprenticeship?!”   
Peter fell back on his bed, groaning. “Yes, and I was going to tell you but I didn’t want it getting around.”  
“C’mon, Peter, you know I don’t gossip.”  
Peter stifled a laugh, “Oh, yeah? Like you don’t run and tell MJ everything that happens to you on a daily basis.”  
“You know how she is! She just looks at you, and suddenly you’re pouring out gossip from third grade!” Ned sighed into the speaker. “You should have told me, Peter. You can tell me anything. If you want, I’ll keep it on the DL, okay?”   
“Yeah, I’d like that. But really. Should I just wear the suit from last year?”  
“I mean, I liked it. Looks crisp. You thought you’d never wear it again, and now you have an opportunity to wear it again.”  
“Yeah, you’re right.”  
“Does May know?” Ned asked. Peter knew it was coming.  
“No, you’re the only person. So keep quiet.”  
“You can’t see me, but I’m holding out my pinky. I promise.”  
“Thanks Ned.”  
\---  
“Jarvis, text Peter that he has the day off.”  
“Jarvis, don’t text Peter that he has the day off.” Tony glanced across the room as Pepper walked into room. He knew he looked pitiful. Rhodes had taken him out drinking last night, and he had maybe five too many drinks. He was sprawled out across the couch, reruns of The Bachelor on the projection Jarvis had thrown up. “You’ve been laying here since 11 am. It’s 4 and Peter is going to be here-“  
Pepper was interrupted by Jarvis, “Sir? What would you like me to do?”  
Tony glanced at Pepper, throwing his half eaten piece of pizza into the empty cardboard box. He walked over, putting his hands on her shoulders. “Pepper. I’m so hungover that my head is going numb.”  
Pepper’s face turned slightly concerned, “Tony-“  
“Ah, ah, ah! The kid deserves a day off. He’s been coming for two weeks straight and tomorrow is the benefit.”  
“He makes his own schedule, you know.”  
“What?” Tony furrowed his brows, dropping his hands from Pepper’s shoulders.  
“He’s still a senior. He has classes early morning, and comes in the afternoon when he’s free. He sends me the days he can come, and I put them in the books.”  
“God, how much are we paying this kid?”  
“Oh, nothing. He denied any form of payment I offered.”  
Tony’s mouth dropped open to find a snarky remark, but the pang of his headache brought him to a stop. Well that was surprising. “Jarvis, text Peter that he has the day off.”  
Pepper offered a sigh and walked out of the room, throwing her hands up exasperated, and leaving his paper work by the door.   
Tony sat back down, turning the tv back on.   
“Sir, incoming call from Peter Parker.”  
“Answer.” He paused until he saw his icon pop up on the phone. “Hey, kid.”  
“Hey Mr. Stark, are you really sure you don’t want me to come by today? I-I can help you with cleaning the garage, I know you were talking about doing that.”  
Peter was outside in the hallway, pacing. His calculus class ended in about ten minutes, but as soon as he received the text he wanted to call and be sure. Had he done something wrong? He wasn’t sure why Stark didn’t need him.  
“You deserve a break. You’ve been working hard, and the event is tomorrow. Just take it easy.”  
“O-Okay. Will do.” He ended the line with a click. He couldn’t help but feel torn. He had noticed, after spending the past few weeks with Tony, how differently he acted when he was at work, rather than the way he portrayed himself through interviews and at parties. Which, Peter had thought was pretty normal of celebrities to do. Until he started to notice that Tony was constantly on edge, and how the smallest things made him react in the biggest ways.  
The first time he came into the workshop unannounced, Tony nearly chucked a wrench at his head when he didn’t realize it was Peter. The next day, the door had a little alarm that beeped when he entered the room.   
When Happy would drive them to lunch, he sometimes could catch Tony holding onto the door handle so tightly that his knuckles were white. He was constantly jittery while they were on the road, and it wasn’t until they returned that he could see him physically relax. Sometimes they would talk over lunch, usually about the suits. Other times, they would simply watch TV, or Tony would research while Peter scrolled through his phone.  
Some days, Tony would be talkative, asking all kinds of questions, and other days he hardly said a word. Some days he would work four hours straight, his ideas coming a mile a minute. He would ask Peter to write everything down for him, and he could hardly keep up.  
“Slow down, Mr. Stark, I’m not Jarvis.” He had said.  
“You could be. God, sometimes I think you’re as smart as he is.”  
It was confusing, when Tony complimented him like that. His heart would beat so loudly he swore that Tony could hear it on the other side of the room. It made him proud of himself, too proud. But there was something else that he couldn’t put a finger on it. Something that he felt deep in his stomach, something that made his palms sweaty, and made it hard to keep his grip on the pen.  
And then not even an hour later, Tony would crash. The ideas would find their way into the trash. “It’s part of the process, kid.” He would tell Peter, “My brain isn’t what it was ten years ago.”  
But Peter didn’t really understand. Everything that Tony talked about was pure genius. Even his ideas in passing were some of the most superb things that Peter had ever heard. Sometimes, he wondered how many people tried to copy his ideas, but failed. Because he had some great ones, but no one would ever be able to make it come to life except him.  
And so Peter went home after Calculus, and May was ecstatic to finally have him home for an evening.   
“They really are working you hard, aren’t they?”  
Peter nodded, shoving a spoonful of macaroni into his mouth. He still hadn’t told May. He thought maybe it would be a good time now… but he figured it might be easier to wait until after the benefit, in case she was a bit temperamental about it.  
“Oh, yeah. But it’s worth it. Good people, good place.”  
Luckily May wasn’t one to press a subject. She was good about giving Peter his space, and she trusted him enough to know that he wasn’t a complete idiot.   
“So…” Peter started, tracing the spoon around the edge of the bowl. “Tomorrow night, I may be out a little late.”   
“How late? It’s a Saturday so that’s fine, but just let me know where you are.”  
Peter nodded. “I’m just working tomorrow afternoon, and then some coworkers wanted to get dinner at a place nearby.”  
“Okay, sweetie. You have fun.” May took his now empty bowl, ruffling his hair.  
Peter returned to his room, and neatly folded his suit in his bag. He prayed to the gods it wouldn’t get wrinkled.  
\---  
The next afternoon, Peter headed out a bit after 6. He knew it took about an hour on the ride to Manhattan, and he would have to change somewhere during that time. He was becoming more accustomed to the longer journey. An hour wasn’t bad, so he just stuck in his ear buds and listened to music, watching the people roll on and off.   
It was soothing. It gave him time to think, and usually he thought about school, and college. And sometimes he would think about Mr. Stark. Sometimes it was just thinking about the way he worked. Peter had a pretty good memory, and he had started to memorize the patterns Tony took while he was tinkering on his suits. He thought about the way he whispered to himself, the way he tapped on his work desk while he was thinking. The occasional charm in of Jarvis, with a status update or a simple remark about his work. He thought about the way he looked when he was concentrating; furrowed brows, his eyes wide with concentration, his tongue pressed to the inside of his cheek. The occasional click of his tongue when something didn’t go right.  
There was more than Tony that what met the eye.   
Peter heard the announcement on the loud speaker, he quickly gathered his things and may his way to the nearest public restroom. He had worn his shirt and shoes, so he quickly changed into his shirt and suit jacket, standing at the mirror to tie his tie.   
A group of men made their way into the bathroom. They were middle aged, slightly rough looking. They were loud, boisterous, and Peter could smell the alcohol wafting off them. Peter tried to hurry up, gathering his book bag and making his way towards the exit.   
A larger man raised his eyebrows and stepped in front of the exit. “Where you headed kid?”  
“U-Uh, just work…” Peter tried to duck under his arm, clutching his bag closer to his chest.   
The man caught him by the shoulder, and Peter winced at his tight grip. “Really? You sure you’re not headed to that fancy service up on Broadway? Lots of rich men up there tonight.”  
Peter let out a laugh, “N-No…” He lied, “Just to work.”  
Before he could protest, the man had him shoved against the wall, snatching his bag from his hands. “I want whatever you have in here. Money, whatever it is.”  
Peter felt his stomach tighten, his heart rate increase. What was he supposed to do? “I-I don’t have anything on me.”   
Next thing he knew, there was a searing pain coming from his jaw. His head felt dizzy with the impact. The man had punched him, and tore his bag open, taking his wallet and cellphone. He shoved him on the ground, kicking him hard in the ribs. Peter saw red, and he doubled over, clutching his side with a whimper. The men threw the bag down on him, leaving the bathroom with shared laughter.   
God, what was he supposed to do now? He tried to stand, but the pain in his side was too great. The overhead fluorescent flickered with mockery.   
He tried to get up again, taking a few steps before he collapsed back on the street corner, hissing at the pain, feeling wetness roll down his cheeks. Was he really crying right now? He chastised himself. There were more important things to worry about at the moment, and he was crying like a pathetic baby. He heard a man’s voice echo above him, and a call for help. And within seconds, he felt himself starting to slip away, the ground fell out from beneath him and he was falling, reaching for his strands of consciousness.   
But he came up to short.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies for such a late update! I am leaving for uni very soon, and so I have been busy preparing. I hope you enjoy this regardless!  
> TW: anxiety attack  
> Would you like this story to include romantic starker? Right now I am keeping it within the father/son relationship. Please leave a comment with your preference.  
> I have also created a fan account where I will be posting before I update chapters! If you are interested please feel free to follow the Instagram account: @spideryeeter

After about thirty minutes of impatient waiting, Tony started to realize something was wrong. He scratched his head and tried to call Peter for the third time, but it went straight to voicemail again.  
He tapped his earpiece, walking away from the crowd and flashing camera lights. Happy followed, making sure no one did the same. It usually happened this way at events, the crowd never left his side. He used to relish in the attention, until everything went to shit and he started to hate the attention. And especially at moments like there, paparazzi were often the reasoning behind clenched jaws and tentative remarks.  
“Jarvis, get me a location on Peter’s cellphone.”  
“Yes, sir. It looks like it is currently on the way to the Bronx.”  
“Yep. That’s not right.” Tony bit his lip, slightly too hard. “Where was it half an hour ago?”  
“The subway station down the road, sir.”  
Tony tapped his watch, watching Jarvis connect his screen to the map he was looking at. He followed the glowing dot, his mind spinning. Either Peter left his phone on the subway, he still was on the subway, or something pretty goddamn bad happened, because Peter was always early, and never late.  
He pushed through the crowded street, picking up the pace when he saw the crowd surrounding the bathroom. The cop cars blocked off part of the street, and he could hear an ambulance wail in the distance.  
“What happened here?!” He grabbed one man’s shoulder, pulling him to face him.  
The man jerked his shoulder away, scowling. “Some kid was mugged.”  
“Where is he now?” His voice was tense, but for good reasoning. Why would this guy be such an ass? Couldn’t he tell that Tony was worried?  
“Just took ‘em to the hospital.”  
Tony groaned, feeling a pit form in his stomach.  
Idiot. You should have had Happy pick him up.  
His consciousness cursed at him, he dug his fingernails into his palm, as he felt his breath quicken.  
Shit. System override. He tried his best to calm his mind, but he felt his thoughts start to cascade around him. Loud and explosive, coming over him like tsunami. And then came the hyperventilation. Slight, but just enough to make him dizzy. He dropped to his knees, holding himself against the cement walls of the cityscape.  
Why now? It had been too long since this had happened. And now, it was all catching up to him at exactly the wrong moment. And that’s what it always seemed to do, always biting him in the ass.  
Sure, the kid was on his way to the hospital. But Tony felt obliged to be there with him: Telling him that it was alright, and getting pissy with the nurses who didn’t tend to him quickly enough.  
Then, suddenly, Happy’s hand was on his shoulder and he was being pulled onto the leather seats of the car. Tony took a few moments to compose himself. He could breathe easy now, away from the loud noises of Manhattan.  
“W-We need to go-“  
“Already on it, Tony. You have serious doubt in me, even after all these years.” Tony heard the driver’s side door shut, and they were on the road, weaving through traffic to find their way to the ER.  
The ride was excruciatingly long, Tony couldn’t help but think about what kind of fear Peter had been in. What kind of sick assholes could do that to a kid? And he vowed to find them. He was sure the authorities were already started, but he wasn’t looking for simple justice and a few years behind bars.  
“A few drunk guys with a temper…” he had heard one lady telling the officer on the scene. Disgusting. To steal from a kid. What kind of fucking menace do you have to be to steal from a fucking kid?  
Happy caught a glimpse of Tony in the mirror, his brows furrowed, his ears red with anger. It wasn’t hard to read Tony’s expressions. His white knuckles gripped the door handle, itching to open the door when they pulled into the parking lot. Happy hadn’t seen him this angry in a while.


	6. Chapter 6

Bright lights and soft voices, paired with pressure on his ribs; that’s what Peter felt when he woke up. There wasn’t any pain, which was a relief, since before he was crying like a baby and it was honestly pretty embarrassing.  
He struggled to open his eyes, but it remained dark, so he took to reassessing exactly what happened before he blacked out in the ambulance.  
Oh, right. The guys in the bathroom. He mentally sighed. He didn’t really blame them. He was an easy target. Small, and with no education on self-defense, other than the few months of karate he took when he was 13. (He had quit, after complaining about his sore muscles and bruised hands to May.)  
It happened all the time in the city, anyways. He was sure the police would find them quickly. They were stupid enough to mug someone in one of the busiest areas in Manhattan without covering their faces. They were drunk after all.   
Peter never liked the idea of alcohol anyways. People always told him, “It just makes things more fun!” But truly, Peter never saw any good come out of it. Sometimes he would smell it on Mr. Stark in the-  
Shit! Mr. Stark!!  
And with that, Peter’s eyes flew open, and he startled awake, hearing the nurse make a surprised sound. She came over and pushed him down by his shoulders, cooing him to calm down, and fixing the machinery he had accidentally yanked his way. She steadied his IV, checking his pulse by putting her fingers on his wrist.   
He took a few moments to breathe, adjusting to his surroundings; the white walls and floor that shone bright like snow at home, on early winter mornings in Queens. The smell was overwhelmingly chemical, but it was a hospital, so he supposed that was normal. He watched the nurse exit the door, peering at the in and out traffic in the hallways. The nurses who walked quickly, looks of concern and plastered smiles decorated their faces.   
Watching them, he wondered about May. He was sure that she was worried, he hadn’t ever texted her that he arrived. Yeah, she was probably freaking out right now. He waved the nurse over as came in the room, and when he spoke he felt the faint tug and pain in his ribs.  
“U-Um could you call my aunt, please?” She gave the nurse May’s number, and as she left the room, the doctor entered.   
“Well kid, as you can probably tell you have a few broken ribs. Three to be exact.” The doctor was a younger man, probably in his early 40’s or late 30’s. His hair was slightly grey, but still dark and sleek. He was handsome, Peter had to admit. He had bright blue eyes, and a fairly strong stature. And since he was so young for a doctor, he had to be intelligent.  
Peter bit his lip, nodding as the doctor pulled up the seat to sit at the edge of the bed. He glanced at his name tag. Stephen Strange, huh? That was a weird name, it almost sounded made up. “Well if that’s all it’s not too bad, right?”  
“You’re pretty lucky, with how much your nose was bleeding we thought it was broken too, but it seems to be fine.” The doctor leaned in, examining his nose. The gloves were cold on his skin, and he shivered at his touch, and the surprise of the steadiness of his hands.  
That freaked Peter out a little.   
The doctor stood and glanced at the clock. His demeanor was cocky, he could tell that he knew what he was doing. He wore a slight smile that showed he truly enjoyed his job, but that he usually did far more than take care of broken ribs. “You should be released in a few hours. Is there anyone who can come get you?”  
“I’ll be taking him.” Peter looked up quickly at the sound of the voice. It was matter-of-fact, and dripping with undertones of professionalism, but with that hint of sarcasm.  
And he knew it well, and he saw exactly what he expected. The doctor stood, shaking his hand, obviously recognizing Tony in an instant. Tony shot Peter a smile, one that said it’s all taken care of, without a single word.   
He watched the doctor and Tony interact with the doctor as they moved out in the hall to speak. Tony was still in his four piece suit, looking extremely out of place against the stark white contrast of the hospital. Stephen was much taller than him, by at least four inches, but they both held that strong aura of dominance, and it was overwhelming seeing them side by side.   
Tony kept glancing in the room at Peter, and Peter did his best to pretend that he didn’t notice. He could see worry weighing down upon his brow, and his eyes seemed tired. A mixture of lack of sleep, and something else.   
He watched as Stephen leaned down slightly and whispered something into Tony’s ear. Tony’s brow raised, and he met him with a grin. What was that all about? Stephen brushed his shoulder as he walked away, and Tony took a second to mask the grin on his lips, his eyes trailing after Stephen as he slinked away, back into the chaos of the emergency room.  
Peter felt a tightness in his abdomen. He told himself it was just his ribs.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And the plot thickens....   
> Please let me know what you think about it so far! Also, you may have noticed that Stark is much younger in this fic, and I do that purposefully.   
> As always, thank you for your support. I hope you enjoy this chapter!

The drive home was quiet. Tony and Peter were stuck together in the backseat, and Happy had the radio on low, silent for the hour long drive to Queens. Tony had contacted May who had been working her night shift, telling her what had happened. She tried to keep her cool, but Tony could hear the worry waiver her voice, and her breath hitch in the back of her voice as she held back tears. She blamed herself for not checking her phone or calling him on the ride. Tony told her that she shouldn’t worry, that he was okay, and he would bring him home tonight. May gave her apologies, and Tony responded with a simple, “I’m only doing what’s right.”  
And he truly felt like he was. He sympathized with the way May felt, because Tony felt exactly the same. He felt guilty for not being there to protect him, and for leaving the kid to fend for himself. The guilt weighed hard on his conscious, and he blamed himself. May wasn’t the one at fault, it was him. Because he could have actually done something to prevent it.  
Peter was resting his head against the window, his eyes closed, and his breathing shallow. And Tony took the time to watch him, knowing he was asleep from the amount of pain killer he was on.   
Although it was dark in the car, Tony could make out the edges of his face. His high cheekbones, and the curve of his jaw. His shirt was untucked, mostly to keep the restriction off his ribs, but Tony couldn’t help but realize how beautiful he truly looked.   
He brushed the thought away quickly. He shouldn’t think about him that way, he was a thirty five years old, and Peter wasn’t even eighteen yet.  
Tony ran his fingers through his hair, trying to get his mind off Peter, staring out the window to avoid looking at him. Usually at moments like these his thoughts would fall to Steve, wondering how he was doing, what he was up to. After the incident they rarely ever talked, and now that Bucky was back, off in cryo halfway across the world, Steve was constantly there visiting and rarely even wrote to anyone else. Except Natasha, but she was the only one who could ever break through his icy cold demeanor. Not even Tony’s affection could mask that away.   
But this afternoon, he had a new face in mind. Bright blue eyes, perfectly groomed salt and pepper hair. God, Tony didn’t think he’d ever seen a man radiate charm like that. The way he spoke, which was so precise and scientific. That was enough to get anyone going.   
He shivered, whether at the thought of Stephen or the chilly fall air rolling through his open window, he didn’t know.   
He looked over at Peter again, whose eyes were now open, watching the city lights roll by on the highway. He saw the way the light sparked off his deep brown eyes and felt that tightness grow in his gut again.   
Peter glanced over and caught his eye, and for once, Tony didn’t look away to pretend like he wasn’t looking at him. Peter gave a soft smile that quickly turned into a wince, as he twisted his body to face him.   
“H-How much longer until I’m home Mr. Stark? I’m really sorry you had to take me home, I-I could have…” And Peter trailed off as Stark’s face became stern.  
“Kid, I suggest you stop running your mouth.” His expression became gentler after seeing Peter’s face fall with the remark. “We are about twenty minutes away.”   
Tony cursed himself internally. Peter was so sensitive, so fragile, and Tony was constantly fucking things up. He wanted Peter to see him as a mentor, but everyone in the whole universe knew he wasn’t the best influence, or the best example. He wasn’t strong like he used to be. He wanted to be strong, for Peter’s sake. But there was no telling if he could ever live up to the hero-status that Peter held him under. He couldn’t even protect him, and he learned that tonight.  
\---  
Peter walked himself inside, since Tony had to somehow come up with an explanation on why he ditched his own benefit to Pepper. He turned on the kitchen light, stumbling in to make himself an ice pack. He felt like crap, not because he had three broken ribs and a headache from hell, but because he knew what Tony was thinking. He knew Tony was blaming himself, and he hated that, because he already had enough to deal with.  
He made his way to his room, laying down on the bed and propping his back up with pillows, trying to avoid the pain as much as he could. He spent most of the night staring at the ceiling, the ice pack burning cold into his skin, thinking about everything that had happened in the past 5 hours. And he couldn’t stop thinking about the doctor, and the way Tony reacted when he whispered to him…  
He felt another jealous pang rattle his heart. Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid! But what had he whispered to him anyways?! He had never seen that expression on Mr. Starks face. And no, he wasn’t jealous. He kept telling himself that it wasn’t jealously, just curiosity. He saw the way the Stephen looked at Mr. Stark, it was the way he saw men look at May when she was walking with Peter to the corner store. And it pissed him off.   
It really pissed him off.

When morning came around, May woke Peter up with a fresh icepack and a plate off eggs.   
“Hi sweetie…” her face wore that expression that matched the time he fell off the swing set in elementary school. And it made him feel like a child again.   
He smiled at her, and she brushed the hair out of his face, sitting on the edge of his bed while he started to eat. The pain was worse now, since the pain killers he had taken last night had worn off, and he felt that sharp string of pain every time he took a breath in.  
Peter tried his best not to show his pain on the outside, since May already had enough going on… And he knew how she stressed over the smallest things.  
“I think we should talk about a few things.”   
Peter nodded, he knew this would happen eventually. Especially after Mr. Stark probably gave her the lay down last night. Which it wasn’t his fault, he probably assumed Peter had already told her.   
“Why didn’t you tell me you were working for Tony Stark, first of all?! I am so proud of you! But also angry at you for keeping that from me!” Her voice went through a rollercoaster of emotions, and Peter almost laughed at the way her expressions changed.   
“I was going to tell you eventually, but I-I just know how you make things into a really big ordeal- and it’s not…”  
“But it is! Peter you are so intelligent, and I want to make you feel appreciated and loved!”  
Peter couldn’t help but smile through his mouthful of eggs, and May let out a laugh, ruffling his hair.  
She let out a sigh, “I have news that you aren’t going to like, though.”  
Peter sat up a little more, swallowing down his food. And it was good thing, because he almost choked at May’s next words.  
“No more internship until you graduate, okay?”


End file.
